Morning in Arendelle
by Rosepixie
Summary: A series of very short stories about characters from Disney's Frozen in the morning. There is very little plot, but it is safe to assume that the stories all take place on the same morning, so small connections may become evident. I have no current plans to expand any of these into longer stories, but may continue to add more of them over time.
1. Elsa

Elsa awoke in the quiet of morning. Of course, every time of day was pretty quiet in her isolated room. She could listen to the bustling of the few castle servants working at various times throughout the day, but they were mostly far away in the kitchens in the morning.

She used to leave her room for meals and to occasionally sit with her parents in a parlor, but since their deaths she had barely stepped outside of her four familiar walls. Servants brought her meals three times a day on trays. Anna also visited daily now. She didn't knock anymore. She simply sat outside the room and talked. Elsa never spoke in reply, but Anna's visits were her favorite part of the day. The nearness of even a sister she didn't dare to face was comforting.

The morning light streaming into her window showed Elsa that she had slept later than usual. Her breakfast would be here any minute! She hopped out of bed and padded across the room in her bare feet to peek in the mirror. Patches of her carpet were uncomfortably crunchy because of the number of times they had been frozen and thawed out again, but Elsa was used to it.

Her mirror showed that her hair was its usual morning mess, so Elsa picked up her brush and set to work taming it into a braid. She had just managed to get the worst of the knots out of her hair when there was a knock at her door. Elsa set down the brush and went to open the door. A maid stood outside with a tray of food.

"Good morning, Your Highness," the maid greeted her warmly as she took the tray. "Is there anything else that I can do for you this morning?"

"Thank you, Gerta," Elsa replied with a small smile. "I could use some fresh wash water after I eat."

"Of course, Miss," Gerta said with a bob of a curtsy. "I will bring it up shortly. Enjoy your breakfast, Your Highness."

Elsa thanked the girl and disappeared back into the safety of her room to eat alone.


	2. Anna

Anna blinked and yawned. Sunlight was streaming in her bedroom window. She knew that she needed to get up and go have breakfast, but the thought of the empty castle just made her want to cry.

She knew that it was supposed to get easier, everyone said that it would get easier, but wandering through the big, lonely castle alone day in and day out gave her too much time to remember and miss her parents.

Anna had taken to visiting Elsa's door every day now, just like she had when she was very little. She never knocked and Elsa never opened the door. Instead, she would simply sit on the floor with her back against the door and talk about whatever came to mind. Elsa never responded, but Anna could often hear her shifting against the other side of the door and sniffling. Somehow, that was comforting. At least she wasn't alone in her sorrow.

Breakfast was lonely, though. Every day, it was lonely. Anna dressed half-heartedly and trudged down the hallway towards the dining room. The housekeeper had let her eat in her room for a week and then insisted that she resume eating in the dining room like a "proper princess" again. Apparently, this rule didn't apply to Elsa, though, since Anna ate every morning sitting alone at the big dining table.

Sure enough, when Anna walked into the dining room she found her breakfast sitting at her place at the huge empty dining table all by itself. A footman stood discretely to the side in case she needed anything, but no one else was in the room and he never voluntarily spoke to her. Anna sat in the stiff dining chair and half-heartedly began to nibble her food, listening to the echo in the room whenever her fork scraped the plate.


	3. Kristoff

Kristoff pulled his hat further down over his ears. It wasn't fully winter yet, but you could definitely feel it on the air, especially up here in the mountains. He'd gotten up extra early today in order to get as much time as possible for ice. Since business was much slower in the winter and he suspected that the winter holiday festivities (which usually required more ice) would be less elaborate this year, given the recent deaths of the King and Queen, he wanted to maximize the sales he made before then.

He and Sven had been up before dawn. They had slept in a barn last night and still had bits of straw stuck to them, but they didn't care. Since they were headed further up the mountains, it hardly mattered if they were a mess.

Sven was grumpy this morning, so Kristoff decided to cheer him up (spending the day with grouchy reindeer wasn't fun).

"Come on, Sven," he wheedled, "Smile! It's going to be a good day!"

The reindeer gave him a glare and huffed dismissively. He deliberately sniffed in Kristoff's direction and pantomimed gagging.

"You smell like you need a bath!" Kristoff translated in his "Sven" voice. He pulled the fabric of his coat away from his chest and sniffed it.

"Ok, I guess it is getting a little worse than I had realized," he conceded. "How about tonight we head home and let them wash everything?"

Sven huffed doubtfully, but his movements became a little bit less reluctant.

"Since you can't help it until then," Kristoff translated for the opinionated reindeer, "I guess that will have to do."

"Good!" Kristoff stated, clapping his mittened hands. "Now, we only have about an hour before dawn, so let's get moving! We have ice to cut!"


	4. Hans

Hans woke up with a violent sneeze. The force of it jerked his body up to a sitting position. As he sat up, he smashed his head against a board being held there by one of his brothers. Riotous laughter broke out all around him.

As he rubbed his newly aching forehead, Hans looked around. Standing around his bed were three of his brothers - one holding a feather, one holding a wooden board, and one holding onto a nearby chair as he laughed so hard that tears were trickling down his cheeks.

The subject of their mirth scowled and pushed out of bed to stomp past his brothers, which only made them laugh harder. Hans thundered into his dressing room and slammed the door shut behind him. His dressing room was blessedly empty. Being the youngest, Hans didn't get his own valet. Officially, he shared the services of a valet with some of his older brothers, but the man always attended to the older ones first, so Hans had long since learned to dress himself. Usually that infuriated him, but today he appreciated the solitude.

Slamming wardrobe doors and dresser drawers, Hans pulled out clean clothes. He stalked over to the little wash station. At least the maids reliably changed the water in his basin every morning, so he had clean water to wash up with.

As he carefully washed his hands and face (being extra gentle with the growing bump on his forehead), his mind wandered to the future. He was going to be a king someday. He was certain of it. He would have power and be respected. He would have four valets who only attended to him and no one would ever laugh at him. His brothers would finally show him the respect he deserved.

When word had reached the Southern Isles a few months ago that the lost princess of Corona had been found, the heir to her parents' thrones, he had begun to plan a trip there. Unfortunately, before he could set off they had gotten the news that she had married the man who had found her. Hans had been frustrated, but not for long. There were other princesses, other thrones. He _would_ be a king.

Hans splashed his face one last time and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. He was handsome (even with the red lump on his forehead), smart, charming, and determined. One of those princesses was bound to fall for him. Yes, a crown was most definitely in his future. He would settle for nothing less.


	5. The Duke of Weselton

The Duke of Weselton made his way through the richly appointed corridor toward his office. Servants bowed politely as he passed by.

A maid was just setting out tea for him when he reached his imposing office. She bobbed a curtsey and left the room. The Duke sank into the tall gilded chair behind his dark mahogany desk and prepared himself a cup of tea (a dash of cream and one spoonful of sugar).

Sitting on his desk was a stack of papers waiting for his attention. Weselton was fast becoming a very powerful trading hub in the region, thanks in large part to the Duke's highly hands-on control of the city's trade policies and agreements. The ports were bustling due to his hard work.

The first document that he picked up was a report from one of his representatives in the Southern Isles. He rolled his eyes in exasperation as he read the letter. There was political unrest. Again. The king and queen of the Southern Isles really should have stopped after one or two sons. Thirteen was just asking for trouble.

Taking a sip of tea, the Duke moved on to the next document. As he read, his eyes began to narrow. Arendelle had declared that they wouldn't discuss any changes in trade policy for three years! They were going to continue honoring all existing agreements, but would consider no changes until their recluse princess was crowned queen. How much could the girl possibly understand, anyway? She lived entirely shut up in a castle. It was rumored that no one had even seen her for a decade! Why, the representative that he had sent to the king and queen's funeral said that she hadn't even attended! Only the younger princess had been there.

He had plans for his trade arrangements with Arendelle and they didn't involve waiting three years for a sheltered princess to grow up. This was aggravating! What big secret were they hiding in that castle, anyway? He had to find out. Perhaps a trip to Arendelle himself was in order as soon as a royal audience could be arranged. Surely the girl was seeing official visitors now that she was all but queen of the kingdom. Peasant rumors were fine, but there was no way that the future ruler of a kingdom as prosperous as Arendelle truly saw no one. Surely he could arrange something sooner than three years hence!

Dropping a quill in some fine black ink, the Duke began to pen a letter to the girl who would eventually be queen of Arendelle.


End file.
